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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26924728">Chocolate Chip or Catnip?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/VulpixSinistre/pseuds/VulpixSinistre'>VulpixSinistre</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>H.I.V.E. Series - Mark Walden</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fantober2020</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 01:55:58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,106</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26924728</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/VulpixSinistre/pseuds/VulpixSinistre</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Fantober2020 Day 9: Baking!<br/>Ms. Leon would love some fresh baked treats... but unfortunately, cats can’t use an oven.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Chocolate Chip or Catnip?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It took a few calls - four, to be exact - before Professor Pike even noticed that his Blackbox was ringing. He had happened to glance up from his coding to search for his long forgotten and definitely cold by now cup of coffee when he spotted it loudly vibrating on the desk right next to him. As he reached for it he noted that it was well past one in the morning, meaning he had been hard at work for hours without realizing it. He stifled a yawn and flipped the Blackbox open to be greeted by a fluffy white face. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Hello, Tabitha, is everything alright?”</p><p>“Well, I’ve been better.” The faint glow of her LED collar lit up her unmoving face and large round eyes. It was rather unsettling, even on camera. “Did I wake you?”</p><p>”No, actually, I haven’t even gone to bed yet. I’ve been a bit absorbed in my work,” the Professor answered, stretching in the chair. Yes, he could absolutely use a break right now. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Hmph. I was hoping I would have inconvenienced you.”</p><p>He held back a grumble and tried to keep a neutral expression. Ms. Leon hadn’t been a fan of his since the experiment went.. poorly, and would often make rude quips or comments towards him to show her continued displeasure that a solution hadn’t yet been found. It was annoying, however he could hardly blame her. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Did you need something?” Hopefully the answer was no and he could grab a few hours of sleep before it was time for work again. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>A paw reached up to scratch at her ears. “Yes, actually. I need you to meet me in the kitchen right away.”</p><p>“The kitchen?” he repeated, confused. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Right away.” Then <em>click</em>, and the picture disappeared. </p>
<hr/><p>Professor Pike slowly made his way through the dark cavern of a cafeteria and marveled at how much larger it seemed when it was empty. A clatter echoed through the room from the direction of the kitchen and drew his mind back to the task at hand. He tentatively knocked on the kitchen door and pushed it open. <br/>
“Er, hello?” he called as he stepped inside. The countertop was littered with various ingredients; he spotted sugar, flour, baking soda, and butter, among others, all laying on their sides as if somebody had tossed them there haphazardly. Or, more likely, some<em>cat</em> had dragged them up one by one. <br/>
<br/>
And there was the cat in question, sitting primly on a stool with her tail curled around herself. “It’s about time you got here,” Ms. Leon said. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>He chose to ignore that remark, too. “Why am I here, exactly?” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>She looked down and, when she spoke, she sounded the slightest bit embarrassed. “Well.. you see.. I woke up a few hours ago, and... I wanted cookies.”</p><p>The Professor didn’t see where she was going with this. “Huh? Isn’t the pantry full of cookies? What, you can’t reach them?”</p><p>”It’s not that!” she hissed, and flicked her claws out involuntarily. “And <em>yes</em>, I <em>could</em> reach them if I wanted to. But no. I want fresh baked cookies.”</p><p>He still looked confused, so she added commandingly, “And I want you to make them for me.”</p><p>“What?!” This was definitely unusual. Not what he would’ve expected at all. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Her tail flicked back and forth and she held up a paw as if to gesture to herself. “I can’t exactly bake anything in this condition.”</p><p>”And why couldn’t you call any of the cooks for this?” Pike argued. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“It’s almost two in the morning, I don’t want to bother them!”</p><p>”But it’s fine to bother me?”</p><p>”Yes!” She yelled so emphatically that he could hear a meow over the collar’s translation. “Besides, you owe me.”</p><p>He couldn’t argue with that. He <em>wanted </em>to argue with that, but he knew he couldn’t. And so he agreed a tad reluctantly. He’s made it this long without sleep, what’s a little longer?</p><p>”Good.” Ms. Leon leapt off the stool and onto to counter, examining the ingredients. “All we need now is the eggs. I didn’t want to risk trying to get them myself.”</p><p>”Yes, yes,” he sighed. He took a few steps towards the refrigerator and then paused to pick up the bag of flour. He moved it up and down a few times as if weighing it with his hands. “How did you manage to drag this out of a cabinet? It seems too heavy for that.”</p><p>”I have my ways. Now get baking.”</p>
<hr/><p>“Hold on just a minute.” Pike stopped stirring the bowl and pointed the wooden spoon at his colleague. Ms. Leon had been directing him through the process and was currently making little paw prints in the flour scattered across the countertops. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“What is it?” she asked, sweeping her tail over the flour like one would erase a chalkboard, and pressing her paws into it again. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“You can’t eat these. They’re going to be chocolate chip. Cats can’t eat chocolate.” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“Who says these are supposed to be chocolate chip?”</p><p>He scoffed as if it were obvious. “Chocolate chip is the best type of cookie. Who wakes up in the middle of the night and craves a cookie that <em>isn’t </em>chocolate chip?”</p><p>She fixed him with a stare that managed to appear very human like despite being a cat. “I do. A simple sugar cookie would be fine for me.”</p><p>”That’s preposterous.” He shook his head and resumed stirring. “I’ll have to make my own batch afterwards, then, because I’m not going to eat cookies that don’t have any chocolate chips.”</p><p>”I wasn’t going to give you any of my cookies anyways!”</p>
<hr/><p>It was almost time for the school day to begin. Not even worth going to bed now because one would have to wake up practically at the same time that they would just begin to drift off to sleep. <br/>
<br/>
Not that it mattered anymore in the quiet cafeteria of HIVE, where the long raised table meant for staff was set for two: two glasses of milk (one in a cup, the other in a bowl) and two plates of cookies (one chocolate chip, the other not). <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“These came out rather well, if I do say so myself,” Pike beamed, dipping a cookie in his glass and taking a large bite. <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Ms. Leon leaned over her plate and nibbled at hers with a purr. “Not half bad. I’m actually impressed.” <br/>
<br/>
</p><p>“That’s high praise coming from you,” he joked. He held out a cookie and she stared at him for a moment before tapping a paw against it, as if they were giving a toast with their cups. </p>
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